And They Just
by Otter and Tapir Writing Corp
Summary: He with bad luck; she who turned into a Sneasel. Siblings, running through the world of Pokemon with the sole aim of returning her to her original state.
1. Down

Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six.

_fwump_

From the skies something fell. It wasn't too large, but it was _something_. At the very least something with weight. Grunting and heaving, whatever it was shuffled around after the rather uncomfortable landing. _Well dammit._ Twenty-six seconds, apparently, was enough for his sister to push him off the cliff and send him crashing down onto the ground much to the amusement of the ring of Pokémon gathered around him. They didn't look that hostile to him, but with his currently blurred vision it was hard to tell. The next thing he knew his brain was already alert but his senses were struggling to keep up; _glasses glasses glasses glasses_, his brain was drilling into him while his effectors started flailing around to find his pair of spectacles. That fall off the cliff, though it wasn't too deadly of a drop (but still enough to place him in braces) was still fresh within his mind. Somehow he was splayed out like a cat that jumped off a fifteen-story building and maintaining the pose while he flailed around. He heard snickering from the lower right corner. _Turn, head._

With much effort, he managed to get his atlas to move and subsequently, his head. His eyes settled on a blurred out figure; black, clawed and smirking, it was. He had no idea what it was supposed to be, and his legs were hurting too much for him to move them. They probably weren't fractured due to the mound of leaves he had landed on with several trees breaking his fall, but they hurt so much they might as well have. It flexed its claws, incessant snickering leading the way while it made its way over to him. Flinching from the effort to get away, he found himself lying in a position even more painful than before - and threatening, for a claw was now held to his throat. He gulped. Bad luck was almost synonymous with his name. This situation called for something, something to help.

His hand flew to his waist.

_It's gone.___

_Dammit. Damn you, Lachesis._

His sister had taken the only item he had thought of as precious, as something to pull him through all the bad luck he had faced. His Pokéball. The Pokémon within was probably at the mercy of his sister, turning into a monster as the very same twenty-six seconds passed for the poor little thing. Sadistic and a tad masochistic, Lachesis was what they called _sadomasochistic_. However, her angelic appearance simply denied the fact ... but he knew better. Very much better. _Okay, calm down. You're at claw-point. You can die._ His mind wasn't helping though it clearly was trying to help. He tried inching away from the claw, but whoever it was, it wasn't keen on letting him so. What seemed like a group of friendly Pokémon had just turned into a murder of Pokémon. With an intent to kill and see him die, no doubt.

_SNEE-EE-EEsnee._

It cackled, running a claw down the side of his neck in glee. _Lachesis._ The first thing he thought of was his sister; there was nothing else, nothing else in this world that would take pleasure in ruining both his body and life. However, from its cries it would turn out to be nothing but a Sneasel. A nasty, horrid Sneasel that would lead its band of friends to destroy him. Rather bloodily as well, he might as well have added. The scent of blood wafted through the air as the claw carved a small slit where it ran across his neck. Soon the claw was upon his cheek, head possibly lowered so close that he could see its features, most notably its eyes clearly. Warm breath cast upon his neck while the Sneasel made its mark a second time upon its face. It leaned in so close to lick the blood off his face, he swore he could listen to its heartbeat before words rang out clearly within his mind. The weasel was apparently, talking to him? No way. _I need my glasses. I need. My glasses._ He was trying to convince himself, but:

_Slow as always on the uptake I see._

That drawl. That attitude.

The group of Pokémon slowly retreated after hearing a hiss from the Sneasel. What drove them off left him with the mingling emotions of confusion and bewilderedness. Yet there was a Seviper, still lurking around; the lethal fangs primed to strike, tail slowly curling around the teenager's leg. By now he had managed to get up into a sitting position but hadn't noticed the tail slowly curling around his aching limb. And it broke out, the fight between the ice-type and poison-type.

Hissing and spitting while at the same time shaking from laughter, the Sneasel pounced on the Seviper, energy surging through its veins, giving it that extra bit of energy to cover the remaining ground between snake and weasel. The sharp claws of the black-furred Pokémon sank into the serpent, drawing blood with every slash and hack: one-two-three-four! times total. Not satisfied with what it had done, the Sneasel dug its claws into the snake's long body. The fang snake Pokémon had certain distaste for a particular creature of white fur, with similar weapons like the weasel had on it. Viewing it as a distant relative of the Zangoose family, the snake was eager to not lose what seemed like a wonderful prey to the Sneasel. It also went without saying that the sharp claw Pokémon _absolutely hated_ giving up what was rightfully its and so, fought back.

With the poison glands secreting droplets of poison, Seviper lashed out with a powerful offensive utilizing its tail. In terms of speed and agility, it was no match for its speedy foe, but as long as it was anchored upon its fleshy body, there was still a chance. The bladed tail shot through the air, threatening to pierce the furry skin of the weasel, only to have its assault halted by a loud cry from not one, but two. Weasel shrieking; human screaming.

The frequency of the Screech was nothing like he had ever experienced before. It rang through his brains, overriding his senses. His body trembled so; were his poor hands going to give from holding his ears shut? Even his ossicles were vibrating within the safety of his skull. Feeling like he was a mere inch away from blood spurting out from his ears in a gruesome manner, his feelings were soon replaced by minor pangs of relief when the snake finally backed off to nurse its wounds and jittery hearing. _It's not even slithering straight._ He felt like laughing, but even a smile seemed to elude him.

_Snakes don't slither straight, you doof. They do it all bendy-like._

He glanced around. The Sneasel, was indeed, speaking to him. _But how?_ he wondered, almost too innocently. Out of fear for what might have possessed the weasel before him, he inched backwards, only to have his hands touch the cold water of the lake. Any further, and he'd fall right in. He wasn't eager on taking a swim with both his legs in this condition; _Lachesis, help me._ It was the only thing he was good at. Asking for help when his fountain of bad luck provided him with even more situations to get out of. As much as he hated enlisting the help of his sister ... there was no choice but to. He hadn't spoke to her since yesterday and wouldn't divulge the reason behind it. That drove her to push him off a cliff, laughter echoing around her while she sat upon her heels, head resting on hands while she hummed an innocent tune to go with her equally innocent face.

_That's probably what happened._

His face obeyed orders and his mouth curved into a grim smile.

The Sneasel appeared oddly indignant, crossing its arms and tapping its feet upon the ground. Almost nonchalantly (he wondered how its emotions changed so quickly), it proceeded to inspect every single one of its sickle-like claws.

_Nuh-uh-uh. So_ not _true._

The creature climbed up and trotted with the balance of a feline across his sore legs, up his waist and dug its claws through his shirt and into his body. Leaning its head upon his chest, it gently ran a claw down his jawline. He soon noticed a smirk with accompanying snickering, the expression upon its face oddly familiar.

_I didn't even get to laugh. So I'm going to do it, right now. Right in front of you.___

_What?_

He blinked. Could not compute. Error. Abort program, Y/N.

_Guess I'm here to stay. You can start by looking for your precious Titus. I left him somewhere to fend for himself ..._

He was jolted to his senses, his hand grabbing the weasel roughly by the scruff of its neck with a growl in a series of uncharacteristic actions on his part.

_Let's go, then. Oh, did I mention that I love that expression of yours, dear brother?_

He dropped it - no, _her_ and nearly fell into the water.

_Dammit. Damn you, Lachesis._


	2. Through

_... shocking._

She crossed her arms, glancing across the vast fields that led to a cave. Many electric-typed Pokémon called this place home and they were practically everywhere. Perhaps not all Pokémon that were running around was of the same affinity, but they might as well have been. Hissing under her breath to get rid of her irritation, the Sneasel slashed at some tall grass. She grumbled about something but all he heard was something along the lines of 'rodents'. Which he wasn't too sure of so he kept his mouth shut. After all, he couldn't see too well - his glasses were still lost and if he wanted to correct his vision he would have to bring himself to a city ... but his Pokémon had different ideas. _I shouldn't have listened to you. You're my -_

_- beloved sister. I know._ The weasel Pokémon glanced at him with a smirk and a snicker. That annoying snicker going SNEE-SNEE-sneeEE. Sickle-like claws held up to chin level, she waltzed on over to her dear brother, her snickering continuing obnoxiously. She linked arms with him, urging him onwards. _I hate those rodents. Don't you too, brother?_

There wasn't much of a choice but to nod. He couldn't see and agreeing was what he did best in this kind of situation. Without messing his life up, that is. Rodents ... rodents. He racked his mind for any idea of a rodent-like Pokémon, but all that popped up were Rattata and he couldn't see them living in these plains. For one, they wouldn't be able to reproduce at the breakneck speeds like they do in their homelands and secondly, they had competition from the eternally favored Pikachu. _Wait._ His hand rushed to his pockets. (He found himself making yet another mental note telling him he no longer had his glasses.)

_Yeah, Pikachu. All Pikaaaa-piPIPIPI. And that shade of yellow - ugh!_ She pulled a face. She loosened her grasp on her brother's arm to swat at another patch of long grass, then slipped her hand right where it once was. _But they shriek, shriek shriek shriek if you get too close for comfort to their cheek sacs._ More giggling, then snickering. _I bet you've never heard how it sounds like._ The weasel ran a hand across her brother's skin, once again cutting a line across his fair skin. _It sounds gooooooood._

He found himself slightly off-balance. He gulped and turned to his sister. _Lachesis. Stop it. Lach! I'm serious here._ And he definitely was. Listening to what she had to hear made him shiver involuntarily on the inside and break out in cold sweat on the outside. She must have felt something for she smiled and laid her warm head on his clammy skin and giggled under her breath.

She pouted slightly and looked at him through the corners of her eyes. She tilted her head, sighing softly then shrugging. _You know you want to hear me out. I know you do but we'll leave it at that._

Then as if she wanted nothing else to do with him she sped up, taking several steps forth with him needing three or four to even catch up with two of her steps. While she skipped on, he plodded on like a donkey, his legs hurting with each step he took. Him lasting this long after the incident at the lake was pretty much proof that he hadn't sustained too bad an injury. He would probably have to spend a week in the hospital after this though so he wasn't too keen on traveling long distances with his pair of legs. Without something propping him up (the Sneasel proved to be a very good replacement crutch) he found it hard to keep going.

_W-whoa!_

He fell to the ground, the pain from his legs flaring up without as much as a warning. The black-furred weasel stopped for a moment as if hesitating whether to help him. As much as she wanted to be selfish and place herself before him, he was _still her brother_ at the end of the day. And he did a pretty darn good job of it as well, she had to admit. Looking out for her and making sure she wasn't hurt like a good brother. She could appreciate that. _Fine, fine. You suck but I'm coming. Just hang on._ She turned around to head towards him.

A cry pierced the air, talons grabbing the Sneasel by the shoulder. She struggled around, hissing and spitting while the boy on the ground merely glanced up as a shadow passed across him._What?_ he thought, barely able to comprehend what was happening at the moment. _Lach?_ He expected to hear an answer but all he got in response was silence. He started to worry.

_SNEEsneesneeee._

She had reverted back to hissing and spitting he couldn't understand, but what he could hear indicated that she was experiencing some kind of discomfort. Probably from the firm grasp the bird had on her shoulder. The Sneasel was angered; the Pidgeotto had no intention of letting her go and so, tightened its grasp. She was left flailing around in midair, attempting in futility to raise her claws to assault the bird Pokémon. It sped through the air, heading away from the fields, away from where she was going to head to, away from her brother.

With cunning determination, she twisted her lithe body to one side and kicked upwards. Shrieking, the Pidgeotto flapped its wings harder to press on despite the pain. Harder. Faster. Better. It had only that in its mind when it steeled itself and hurtled onwards. Stunt-woman-extraordinaire was her second name and now, her claws brushed against feathers. _One more try!_ she urged herself, twisting a second time to deliver a kick against the flapping wings. It released her but now she was faced with a problem: she had quite a distance to fall from.

_Nyaaaaaah! Look down belooooooooow!_

He didn't want to know what was going on about thirty-five feet in the air. He didn't want to at all. The Sneasel was shaking with laughter as she fell, the bird swooping in with a howl of its own name, claws outstretched. Its prey would not elude its. A diet of Pikachu does not maketh a good Pidgeotto, that was what the older Pokémon of his species said as a general rule of thumb. The Sneasel was its prey now and he could not let it go.

_Guess at one point the hunter becomes the hunted,_ thought the Sneasel with a smirk, dropping to the ground on all fours. Surprisingly she had managed to survive the great drop without injury unlike her brother. He still laid a distance away with injured legs and failing vision. _You're lucky you're still alive._ She rolled her eyes and without waiting for a response readied herself for the torpedo. Snee-snee. SNEESNEESNEEeee.

_I should be telling that to you, young lady._ That was the response she did not wait for. She drowned it out.

Shrieking and cackling, when the Pidgeotto came into her field of vision she knew what was going to happen. It was hers. Her prey. _In which I'm the hunter and you're the hunted, sucker!_ The bird inched closer. Time slowed down, or did it? It continued to inch towards her. Closing in on the distance between them both. Somehow she heard the teenager coughing with grunts of effort; he was trying to move towards where the battle was unfolding. In any case there wasn't time to spare - with every passing second the sharp beak threatened to pierce through her effortlessly.

But she was ready.

As soon as it was within clawing distance she disappeared after taking a step backwards. She took a calculated spring into the air and did a pirouette, digging her sickles into the feathered yet fleshy back of the bird like a matador would without fail thanks to the properties of Faint Attack. She shrieked with laughter, _SNEEheehee_; she felt warmth spread through her cold, cold claws while she charged up a bout of chilly wind. She held on to the bird tightly, hooked appendage digging in deeper in order to latch on firmly to get rid of this pest once and for all.

The moving air seized the breath of the Pidgeotto as it inhaled to keep itself going. As for the Sneasel she felt like her breath wouldn't hold due to the temperatures her attack was formed at. Her lungs, ready to burst were screaming at her and she obeyed swiftly by releasing the mist of cold air. Both Pokémon inhaled sharply, the cold seizing their bodies. It was just a matter of who couldn't take it and the question was answered: the bird.

It crumpled to the ground and she smirked. _Go easy on it, Lach,_ her brother told her. He sounded worried, worried over how her opponent was faring. In a world where the strong thrive on the weak there was no such thing as compassion, the weasel Pokémon knew and ignored him That attack she used just now was Icy Wind, she heard people call it. While the Pidgeotto was immobile she allowed herself a laugh, laughing even more with each swipe she took at it with her sharp, sharp claws. Feathers stained red flew into the air, her claws marked red when she was finished with her job.

_... you didn't need to do that ... you didn't ..._

She made her way back to him, hands on hips with her head cocked to the right. She walked over to him; he was now lying on his back with arms stretched open. The Sneasel climbed atop his torso, lying on her front with her head laid against his heart. _I needed to. Or would you like me to do that to you instead?_ As she glanced at him she applied pressed to the claw resting on his upper arm. Strong enough to induce pain but not enough to draw blood, which was what she was doing. Feeling her brother squirm made it all the more better.

_You know, Lach ... you liked fantasy stories._

She cupped her head within her hands and nodded slowly. He smiled and continued, shutting his eyes in a relaxed manner.

_Hey, I was like ten ... idiot ..._ She turned away, digging her elbow into his ribs on purpose. He jerked himself upwards, but fell back to the plains right after. _Then again who needs a prince when I've got you - who needs one?_

He chuckled softly. _You're twelve. I expect that opinion to change as soon as you're thirteen, Lach. Then it'll be more like 'I really need you sometimes, brother - but guess what? I've got a date tonight!', you know?_ He placed his arms under his head, but soon freed his right hand to pat the weasel on the head. The fur running under his skin made him remember something - things weren't what they used to be in the first place.

_I hope not ... hey! Do I_ really _look like that kind of person to you?_ She stopped. _Person ... humph. Don't kid me,_ she chided herself. Her mouth curved into a mix between a pout and a frown, her claw jabbing angrily into his arm. She hissed, eyes narrowing before she tossed her head backwards and hopped off her brother. _Hee hee. I love your blood. It feels ... different._ With a last growl at him, she started walking as soon as the teenager picked himself up with some difficulty. He limped after the agile Sneasel; she was showing off by hopping over the odd rock. They were lucky this time - there weren't any electrical surges during their brief time spent in the plains.

SNEEee-eeSNEESNEE. Snickering, echoing where they went.


End file.
